Lullaby
by tore-my-yellow-dress
Summary: The baby had woken her up out of a dead sleep.


**A/N- This is set in the same universe as "Hush", although reading that piece is not necessary to understand what's going on in this one. I had this saved in my word documents for a few weeks and since I have no time to write new things I thought I'd post this to tide you guys over for a little bit. Thanks to Sab for the title help! ;)**

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

To be fair, it's definitely not the best way he's ever been woken up.

He blinks the antagonizing weight weighing down his eyelids away, digs a tunnel through the murky haze of sleep, and makes a grumbling sound that vaguely resembles a beast growling. Hands searching blindly to meet the force that gently shook him awake- Will enters consciousness and finds the kind of darkness that only comes with early, early morning- save the cherry glow of the clock and the faint lighting from the skyscrapers of the city peeking through the wooden blinds.

"What's wrong?" Will slurs, and then jerks to a more alert state when he realizes the implications. Vision adjusting, he can make out the pronounced outline of her jawline and can see the fringe of her lashes.

Fingers prying, smoothing gently over all that he can make out- the curve of her shoulder, her cheek. "What's wrong?" he repeats, nearly frantic. "Is it time for-

Alicia's laughter is a soft reprieve to his anxiety, throaty and keen. The sound of it filling the air makes even the most unaffected cells retract. Release. Relax.

"It's okay, Will. Nothing's wrong," she assures him smoothly, and he can finally make out her entire face in the darkness, the curve of her Mona Lisa tilt. Sheets are pushed from her body, dressed in the evoking sight of nothing but his most roomy gym shirt. She wears it because it smells like him, and usually that's enough to make her sleep well, sleep deep, even though she hasn't been resting well these past few months.

Her stomach protrudes between them, enough that if Alicia were to scoot closer to him by two or three inches, he'd be able to feel the swell pressed against him. Even now, he watches Alicia rub steady, confidant circles with her hand against her middle, unfazed by the hour. Will takes her in and thinks of how grateful he is for the opportunity to see her like this, all belly, the most beautiful thing he's even seen, middle of the night and moonlight and city lights rejuvenating her pale, pale cheeks.

Alicia glows.

Will tucks his hand underneath his head and sighs. In love.

She doesn't say anything to him, and for the moment, he simply studies her breathing, soaks in the scent of her shampoo on his pillows and on his sheets, something he'll never tire of. When he nearly falls asleep at the lull, the bone deep bliss, Will squints harshly to keep himself up, takes note of the time and clears his throat as nicely as he can.

"Alicia," he starts, treading carefully. "I don't mind you getting me up at all, and I'm so happy nothing is wrong, but are you aware of the fact it is four in the morn-

The movement is sharp, stops the words barreling through his voice box. Alicia maneuvers to tug his wrist from where he'd had it placed beneath his chin and pulls it toward her. He stops talking and lets her guide him, not far at all, as it turns out. She shows him where to touch, then-

"_Woah." _

Will's features go slack for a few good seconds, his mouth quirked. Hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand tall, all pinpointed to the quiet warmth of her skin and the tick at his carotid. The kicking like a beat. Constant, firm against his palm.

"For the past forty minutes," she informs him, a hint annoyed, but still cut from adoration, from unadulterated joy.

The baby's kicking had woken her up out of a dead sleep.

"It's not usually like this," Will clarifies, shifting so that he can wiggle an arm around her shoulders, pull her into him while his hand is still fastened to its position. Alicia shakes her head, makes a noise to convey as much.

"Although," she analyzes, something like mock in her voice. "I've been thinking about it, and _usually _before bed I spend a few minutes just with him- nothing else but thinking good thoughts towards him and talking with him- and," Alicia pauses, snorts fondly. "I didn't really get to do that last night, now did I?"

Will hums, almost smug. "No," he confirms, licking the shell of Alicia's ear and relishing in her intake of breath. "No, you didn't."

"I've traded off being sexually frustrated for this," Alicia reiterates, tapping where their son still beats his legs. "A tantrum between my ribs. Or," she goes on, leaning up to talk into his neck, muffled so as only he can make any of it out. "Maybe he's just a night owl. Zach and Grace were never like this, but remember how late we used to stay up at Georgetown-

"There's no such thing as sleep in law school."

Alicia giggles, remembering, half delirious from lack of sleep. "Yeah, _exactly. _This reminds me of that. Cramming that extra stretch before finals, like he's trying to get really prepared for us. Up until-

Alicia inhales sharply and winces, moving to caress a separate spot. "_Ow_. That one hurt. That one really hurt."

Grimacing slightly, he follows her touch with his own, splaying his grasp over the harsh juts. Fumbling, he pulls back the duvet and moves down, scooting until his ankles dangle off the bed but he's level with Alicia's stomach-

"Will," she says his name cautiously, a little taken aback. It's not that this is an uncomfortable position, but it's sudden, openly vulnerable and outward, and for a second she has to stop and cherish the way he touches her, the way he leans in and presses his cheek against her swollen skin, against the mass moving, as if he could hear what the baby was trying to present as an argument. Alicia massages Will's scalp, tries to hold back the tears as he starts to talk.

"Hey," he goes, "Hey, it's me, buddy. It's your dad," his breathing hitches at the same time hers does. "Listen, buddy," he says so nurturing, so attentive, as if it's a comprehending person standing there. Will is sincere, like he's talking down a client. Her eyes are shining and the baby has stopped kicking with quite so much power, slowing to even nudges, movements.

"Mommy needs sleep," Will goes on, flickering his eyes up to her watery smile, to the way she caresses Will's forehead, intimate in the most knowing of ways. His words touch her in ways she didn't know possible, as simple as they are, as cliché. It strikes her at the most inopportune moments that this is all real- that she and Will are going to be parents, _together. _Together, not apart. A being made from both of them; from their flaws, from their strengths. From all the years of bad timing, out of the ashes of study sessions and a friendship that held for twenty years.

And Will is her soul mate. Alicia Florrick is not one for illogical things, but if there is a definition for soul mate, she sees it every time she looks at William Paul Gardner.

"…I'll sing you some Bowie, some Andy Gibb. Sing you to sleep and everything. But right now you have to go easy on Mommy. She's the best person in the whole wide world, and she's not a piñata," he shoots his gaze back up to her, how she grins and can't stop, grins right back at her.

The baby has stopped its constant berating, sticks to an easy movement of limbs, fluttering. "Mommy loves you, and I love you. Be good," he tells it.

Will twines his fingers through her own, presses a tender kiss to her stomach, and she doesn't know why this means so much. She was never one to go all gooey over babies and Peter never really talked to Zach or Grace like this, not for lack of trying- but maybe it's the old age and maybe it's Will, but Alicia allows herself to bawl like an overly hormonal pregnant lady who has emotional breakdowns at four in the morning.

Will moves back up, and she pulls him down for a kiss, grateful for the peace, for the man holding her, sharing a life with her.

They've come so far, miles from where they were the day before they spoke to one another the first time. Light years away from unrest. Will glances at the clock and strokes Alicia's hair, unperturbed at the time, at how he has to be up in three hours. He won't regret these past few minutes even if tomorrow the lack of sleep grates at him.

"This is the happiest I've ever been," Will tells her, but Alicia is already fast asleep again.

In hindsight, that's for the best, that she doesn't recognize the sentiment, the echo of words.

The past is the past.


End file.
